Chapter Fourteen #3
I shrug off the robe I took out of Lark’s wardrobe earlier, then shove my joggers down, too.
The clothes didn’t come with underwear and I already left mine with my T-shirt when I showered.
Fuck. I shake my head as I pull them on, surprised by the way they hug my middle and gently skim over my hips and thighs.
Okay. They don’t look too bad. The colour is a darker shade than my hair, and they complement each other nicely.
I let out a breath. The shirt. It has a wide neck and flowing arms, and God, okay, the fabric is something else. It brushes against my skin like water.
I glance at myself in the mirror again. It all looks… fine. Better than I thought it might, even if my chest hair is poking out of the shirt’s neck and fuck, it is see-through, and…
Lark knocks on the door. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” I can’t walk into a room full of people looking like this. Especially people who are inclined to dislike me.
“May I come in?”
I hesitate, but what’s the point? I’m dressed. He’s going to see me anyway. I reach over and open the door.
Lark stops still when he sees me. His eyes move over me slowly and I feel a sharp, sudden pulse of his magic.
“I don’t… I just put it on,” I say and look in the mirror again so I don’t have to look at him. I don’t know what that look means. “I’m not sure how things are supposed to look here.”
He’s wearing his new outfit, too. I can’t help but look at him in the mirror, like that’s going to make things easier. His is all sleek lines, looking close to a suit I might see at home, except the shoulders are wider, pointed, and I think he’s wearing a cape made of the same material as my shirt.
“Not like this,” Lark murmurs. He comes up close behind me and meets my eyes in the mirror. “We fae would get nothing done if everyone looked like this.”
He leans in so the final words are spoken right into my ear. I shiver and grab the edge of the sink. “Lark…”
He stays there for a moment, unblinking, then reaches up and smooths the shirt over my shoulders. It falls into place a little better, but I stop breathing when his hands fall to my hips.
“May I?”
“Y-yeah.”
He gently tucks the shirt into the trousers, fingers brushing tantalisingly against my skin. I think I hold my breath the entire time. He doesn’t tuck it all the way in, letting some of that fabric hang over the edge, then slides his hands over my hips and steps back.
“That should do it,” he says. “I have jewellery, but I think you need no ornamentation.”
I swallow and turn, looking at him properly for the first time since he walked into the bathroom. He’s pinned some of his hair back, revealing the tips of his pointed ears. He’s all covered—unlike me—but the tightness of his clothes leaves little to the imagination.
“No one will trouble you tonight.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I reply. “That’s not what this is about.”
Lark lets out a faint growl. He moves quickly, grasping my chin and tipping my head up. His thumb presses against my lower lip.
My head spins, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and pull him closer.
“The way you look… There are fae in this court who will hate me for returning. They will want to steal my beautiful pet away from me.”
Pet. I didn’t like it before, when Zomo said it, and I’m not truly sure I like it now, but I shiver all the same. What would that mean if I stayed here like that? Do the fae pamper their pets? Show them off?
I don’t think I’d like that, but with Lark’s face so close and the commanding way he’s holding me, I’m at least willing to entertain the idea.
“Beautiful?” I repeat faintly. I’m not fishing for compliments. I’m not.
He dips his head and presses his mouth to my ear. “Devastatingly so.” His hand moves, fingers trailing down my jaw and throat and when he tangles them in my chest hair, I let out a faint, far too desperate sound. Lark growls again, but the sound is different this time. Pleased.
We can’t forget what we’re here to do—I can’t forget it, not for a minute—but if we did… If I did…
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to tear someone’s clothes off before. Not literally. Not like I’m contemplating right now.
A noise comes from outside the bathroom. A door. We both tense, listening, and a faint laugh escapes me when I hear Grant’s voice.
“Hey, guys? Are you ready? I think it’s all starting down there.”
He doesn’t venture into the bedroom, and with the bathroom door open, I’m glad of it because Lark doesn’t move away. He flattens his hand over my chest and I tremble.
“Stay close tonight,” he murmurs, the words so quiet against my ear that I know they’re just for me. “We will find her, but I will not have you in harm’s way. Not for a second.”
He lifts his head and fixes me with that dark gaze again. I think I can read some warmth in it now, or maybe I’m just imagining it.
“I will,” I say.
He smiles, and his touch lingers for another second before he lets go and strides back out of the bathroom. I sag back against the sink, trying to catch my breath. The place where he touched is warm, and I press my fingers to it.
I might already be in harm’s way, but I don’t think I mind that at all.